A homeless person is a duck out of water iff you move them from their survival try to help them but they are the life of the party or the best dinner guest if you can get past the smell long enough to stand them cracking one liners telling old stales and long winding stories mostly about childhood wails. Eye am convinced they are all drunks and alcoholic’s eye witnessed a woman carrying a brand new still in the plastic covered item. She was trying to get a cigarette. She was supposed to enter the store with her hubby to turn the item into money but she had twisted away from him to ask me a non smoking android for a cigarette undaunted off she went to look for hubby once more as soon as eye refused her. Eye played fast and loose occupying the Security Guard long enough for her to escape his evil eye become a fence for poor old woman needed fixed. She just needed fixed. A fix. A noxious odor in her nose. A tobacco tube rose. A poor person’s banal bane. A tortuous addiction disguised as a bad habit in nuns clothing she was dressed as a house guest. Eye tired and tired of trying to find my money belt it’s missing so eye had a burger and a coffee from the wallet then eye went to homeless place to sleep in a nice neighborhood where they cut the fences to get in. There is where eye lay me down to sleep the life of a homeless party of one all alone no beers no cigarettes no fun unless it counts what eye done all alone in the night.
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